Lapdog
by Society's Cavity
Summary: Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he? A literal interpretation ushers forth memories Severus Snape wishes he could forget.


**Lapdog**

**- - - - -**

"Now _he_," a Ravenclaw first-year began excitedly, her smiling face flushed with red. "_He_ is _gorgeous_."

Severus didn't even bother to lift his head. But, for curiosity's sake, he flicked his eyes in a bored fashion towards the group of giggling girls and traced their line of vision to the very boy he'd been eyeing himself.

"You've got a few more members to add to your fan club, Lucius," Severus informed him casually as they passed in the hallway. Tall, grey-eyed, blonde haired Lucius Malfoy glanced at the short, hook-nosed boy with an air of slight appraisal, as though they'd never met before, which was very far from the truth. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he asked out of the corner of his mouth, as though determined not to be seen talking with someone like Severus Snape :

"Who?"

"Them," he replied softly, jabbing his thumb towards them over his shoulder. "The bubbly, idiot ones."

"I see them... heh. They all start to look the same after awhile, don't they?" But this last comment was directed to the group of smirking, arrogant looking Slytherins that Lucius associated with on a regular basis; a few of them laughed, making the girls behind them go violently scarlet. Severus knew the conversation between him and the most sought-after Slytherin at Hogwarts was over – there was no use trying to continue the conversation. And he wasn't particularly keen to, either. If anything, he had made the comment to the handsome eighteen-year-old out of bitterness; Lucius, apparently (and thankfully), hadn't caught on to that.

He took long, quick strides, moving as fast as humanly possible – as fast as humanly possible away from the glacial incubus Lucius Malfoy.

–

"We're going to caught, we're going to get caught...." Peter half-whimpered, half-chanted as the four Gryffindor boys made their way invisibly down the long, deserted stairways of Hogwarts Castle.

"We are not, you prat," James whispered, in what might have been attempted consolation.

"Of course not," Sirius reassured him. "We just have to make it to the Whomping Willow without being seen, right, Remus?"

"Y – yes," he managed to choke out; he was very pale and drenched in sweat. "Please hurry, it's getting darker...." And they did, aware of the consequence of delay. It wasn't until they reached the torch-lit entrance hall that they faltered; greasy little Severus Snape was pacing back and forth across the flagged-stone floor.

"_Snivellus_," Sirius muttered darkly under his breath, rolling up his sleeves, but Remus grabbed the back of his robes anxiously.

"_Please_," he cried, sounding as though he was either about to puke or cry, which was very much unlike him. "We can't stop, it's dangerous, not for something like this, you're so damned reckless, I don't know why I thought this would be a good –"

James had clamped a hand over his mouth. "Do you want him to hear us?" he whispered incredulously to him, but then said to Sirius, "But he's right, mate, we've gotta have time to change, forget him."

"Forget him?" Sirius breathed. "He'll see us go through those doors – you know what a slimy little git he is, he'll be on us in seconds, with Filch at his heels." James pondered this, acknowledging that he was right, but at the same time trying to comfort Remus, who was shaking so badly that James feared him only minutes away from transformation.

"Then distract him, quick," he whispered urgently, budging them along. Sirius allowed himself a very nasty grin, then whispered something in a low voice. The other three didn't have time to look back to see what he had done. Remus pushed them all at a very fast walk, and the moment they heard the oak doors slam behind them, they broke out at a sprint – James, Sirius and Peter as stag, dog, and rat, and Remus as a very anxious looking fifteen-year-old, shooting desperate glances at the setting sun, begging it for a few more minutes of daylight... and his prayers were answered; within seconds, they were tunneling through the secret underground passage to safety.

Severus, on the other hand, wasn't quite so lucky.

A very impressive Incendio curse was now brilliantly blazing its way up his robes, scorching his legs and hands as he tried fruitlessly to smother the flames; when that didn't work, he grabbed his wand and extinguished the fire with a hasty spell that sent water surging in every direction. He fell to the floor, panting, soaking wet, and in a lot of pain. He could distantly hear a door slam shut behind him over the ringing in his ears, but he didn't care. He was in too much pain to care.

He got tentatively up on his feet and tested his strength. He was sure the burns on his legs were bad, but he was also quite sure that he could still walk, and besides, couldn't chance going to the Infirmary. For one, dinner had been over for almost two hours, and the nurse would be wondering why he was still out and roaming the halls. For another, he had no idea where the fire had come from, and it would draw a fair amount of suspicion to himself to turn up with a singed robe and no suspects. It did seem the sort of prank James Potter loved to pull, but then, admittedly, he'd been nowhere in sight....

He took his first step towards the Slytherin dungeon and let out a sharp cry, quickly silenced with his white knuckles. Grimacing, he decided he'd dress the burns when he got back to his dormitory... dammit, but he'd wanted to stay out later than this... late enough that the common room would be emptied by the time he got back... but his leg was really smarting, and would need to find some spell for the pain. '_I'll just_... _I'll just avoid him_,' he thought to himself, but despite the knowledge that he was very good at being invisible, he couldn't convince himself that he would escape the hawk eyes of a certain blonde-haired someone.

–

"Ahh... Snape," came a familiar, drawling voice when he burst into the Slytherin dungeon. Hating God, Severus smiled weakly and sank into a high-backed armchair of green velvet, clutching his still searing burns. There were only five or six people left in the common room as it was nearing ten o'clock; it had taken him more than an hour to limp back to the dungeons. All of Lucius' friends had retreated up to their dormitory to rest up for the Quidditch game that awaited them tomorrow, and as he could now fraternize with whomever he desired without detection, he was taking advantage of his time with the jinx-happy fifth year.

"I don't have time tonight," Severus whispered coldly, reaching inside his bag and searching for a book that might assist his ailment. "You might as well leave."

"Leave?" smirked the Malfoy, a sinister grin on his face. Then, lowering his voice, "I don't think so."

The remaining Slytherins left in the common room sent nervous glances at each other, then raced up to their rooms, abandoning their homework for tomorrow night.

Severus pulled a face, brushing back his lank hair in a very dignified manner and explaining in a formal but still bitter voice, "I need to look up a spell, Malfoy, if that's no trouble with you, and I don't have time for your little –" But Lucius stopped him, a hand over his mouth. The look of the ever-broadening grin on his face made the color drain out of Snape's already pallid face.

"Oh, I'll only be a minute," he purred, cornering Severus in his chair, putting both knees on either armrest, sliding his hand away from Snape's white and curling lips. "Just... one...."

"AAAAAAGH!" Severus screamed as Lucius ignorantly laid a hand down on his leg. "You idiot!" he cried, as Lucius leapt away from the chair, clearly taken aback at the sudden scream. "That damned – someone – my leg –"

"What in God's name are you going off about, Snape?"

"This!" And here Severus hoisted up his robe to reveal a yellowed and peeling burn that traveled up from his ankle to his thigh, to which he actually made a gesture of disgust himself. He hadn't known it had been quite so large....

Lucius surveyed it calmly, tilting his head as though Snape had merely tripped and scraped his knee. "Yes, well... you always come back with injuries... honestly, I'm not all that surprised, you're not very popular, are you, Severus?"

Severus gave him the most venomous glare he could muster. "It's that damned Potter, you know that, he –"

"Potter did this to you?" His face was expressionless, save for a tinge of curiosity.

Pausing only for a moment to think, and feeling that it would sound rather stupid to confess that he had no idea where the spell had even _come_ from, he lied quickly, "Yes." Lucius gave a little laugh that sent chills down Severus' spine.

"Then we'll pay him back, pet," he whispered into his ear, crawling back once again to the armchair, this time knowing what to expect. Severus glared.

"Don't call me –"

"Don't call you what?" he drawled, a malevolent grin on his face. "I dare you, Severus, I dare you. Don't call you what?"

He couldn't bring himself to say it. He hated him so much... why wouldn't he just...? "Nothing."

Lucius' eyes were dangerous, a pleased expression full of evil, a snake cornering a mouse, seconds away from piercing its throat with his venomous fangs. "That's right, pet." And here he lowered his mouth to Severus', sliding his serpent-like tongue across tight lips that Severus refused to open, but the challenge only made it more interesting. With graceful, thin hands, he found a pressure point beneath the squirming Slytherin's ear and held it tightly. When Severus stopped writhing to give a little gasp, Malfoy was on him, tasting the foul mouth that loved hexes and Lucius.

"St – stop," Severus breathed, trying to push him away, but it was hard to put conviction into the struggle when he half wanted him to do it again. Even if it was out of spite and malice, it broke the monotone of his life to be wanted, to be desired. And when you were desired by a God....

Of course, Lucius didn't stop, and Severus wasn't as anxious to stop him this time. With no one watching but the eerily green fire, popular, prefect, pure-blood Lucius Malfoy stepped down for a swim in a pool of filth and slime, where broken, shameful, cheap Severus Snape tried in vain to keep his head above the surface. Lucius reached under Severus' long black robes and settled on the bare skin of his waist. Severus gave a little shudder, now more forcibly trying to push the stronger boy off of him, his cries of "stop" a little more desperate. But the cobra had both his teeth sunk into the mouse's flesh, and when he yanked down on the waistband of poor, submissive Severus' underpants, the black-haired boy couldn't help but stiffen despite himself.

"Lucius, what if someone comes down?" he reasoned in a hoarse whisper.

"No one will come," assured Lucius in his deep, serpentine voice. "You're mine, Severus." He pressed now on the burns, as if daring the other boy to scream again, but he didn't; he was biting his lip so hard, however, that it was in danger of bleeding. Lucius was laughing coldly, seeing how far he could push him. "You won't cry out, will you?" Severus shook his head violently, eyes screwed up in an almighty effort to retain his pride. "Of course not... of course not... I have you wrapped around every one of my fingers... you won't cry out... I own you."

Severus was silent here, though he was sweating quite badly, his skin the color of sour milk.

"Severus."

"_I know_," he finally coughed out, trying to clear his mind, searching for that cold, stolid front that he had perfected at Hogwarts. Why were his defenses so low when he caught a glimpse of blonde hair?

"Say it."

"What...? I know...?"

"That you're mine."

Severus struggled, wishing he had his wand, wishing he could sent Lucius flying into the wall, and at the same time hoping the grey-eyed serpent would just descend on him and end the waiting.

"Severus."

There was a choking lump in his throat. "I'm... I'm...." _What would Black say_? _What would Potter say_? "I'm...." _What would your father say_?

"Severus!" he demanded more forcefully, his hands clenching uncomfortably tight around Snape's thin, malnourished waist.

"I'm yours." All of the terror and color drained out of his face. He was empty, now, there was no recovery. Not tonight. As Lucius tormented him and raped him for the remainder of the night, he was a stony corpse, his soul bleeding somewhere miles away.

–

"_Tell me_, _how is Lucius Malfoy these days_? _I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts_, _isn't he_?"

–

Severus Snape forced back a strange emotion that he hadn't felt in years. Shaking his head and pushing himself up off his desk, he turned towards the clock and examined the hands. '_Class begins in less than ten minutes_....' He swept his billowing black robes behind him, then made his way bitterly out the door, the words of Sirius Black still ringing dully in his ears.


End file.
